2,711 pages of Talmud. A gem a day.

Chullin 7

We learned on a previous daf that God is pile not allow a righteous man to accidentally sin and eat something forbidden. Why? Because God prevents animals from sinning through food.

Weird? Totally. Today, we get the story behind that statement.

Rabbi Pineḥas ben Ya’ir happened to come to a certain inn [ushpiza]. His hosts cast barley before his donkey for him to eat. The donkey did not eat it.

The hosts sifted the barley with a utensil, but the donkey did not eat it. They separated the chaff from the barley by hand, but the donkey did not eat it. They wondered why the donkey would not eat the barley. Rabbi Pineḥas ben Ya’ir said to his hosts: Perhaps the barley is not tithed. They tithed it and the donkey ate it. Rabbi Pineḥas ben Ya’ir said: This poor animal is going to perform the will of its Maker, and you are feeding it untithed produce? Rabbi Zeira was referring to this donkey when it spoke of God preventing mishaps from occurring through animals of the righteous.

Just so you know, the food of an animal does not need to be tithed unless it was originally bought for a human to consume. But the magic of the story still remains.

Chullin 6

Today’s daf has two passages which express the same idea: that from Above and below, we should do our best to protect the righteous.

First, from below. We see that a student should not embarrass their teacher:

The Gemara asks: As to the plain meaning of that verse: “And put a knife to your throat, if you are a man given to appetite,” with regard to what matter is it written? The Gemara answers: It is written with regard to a student who is sitting before his teacher, as he must consider his words carefully….The tanna explains the verse: If a student knows about his teacher that he knows to respond to him with a reasoned answer, seek wisdom [bin] from him. And if the student believes that the teacher is not capable of doing so, understand [tavin] who is sitting before you, and put a knife to your throat and refrain from embarrassing him with questions that he cannot answer. And if you are a man given to appetite and you seek an answer to your question, distance yourself from him.

Don’t embarrass your teacher by asking questions about topics you know they’re not educated in.

Now, protection from Above, just know that Rav Asi ate some eggs at an inn, and there is a question about their kashrut.

Rabbi Zeira said to himself: Is it possible that the Sages issued a decree on a mixture containing demai and the matter eventuated that Rav Asi ate forbidden food? Now, since even with regard to the animals of the righteous, the Holy One, Blessed be He, does not generate mishaps through them, is it not all the more so true that the righteous themselves would not experience mishaps?

Here we learn that if we do our best to keep the laws, God will look out for us so that we don’t accidentally sin.

What do we learn? We should do our best to assume the best about others who we KNOW are doing their best.

Chullin 5

Very few people are good through and through. And very few are evil through and through. We all want to believe in people who are consistent, who live with total integrity. And it’s genuinely painful when that image cracks—when someone we admire turns out to have a serious moral failing, even if it’s in an area completely unrelated to what we admired about them. Think of the musician whose art moves you, and then you learn something disturbing about their personal life. It doesn’t cancel what they created—but it complicates everything.

That tension is right here in today’s daf.

The Gemara draws a distinction between two kinds of people: We do not accept an offering from a transgressor with regard to the entire Torah. The middle clause states that one accepts an offering from a transgressor with regard to one matter.

In other words, someone who rejects everything—who has opted out entirely—is in a different category. But someone who struggles in one area? Who fails, even repeatedly, in a specific way? Their offerings are still accepted.

That’s a powerful statement. It means the tradition refuses to flatten a person into their worst behavior. A person can be deeply flawed in one area and still be sincere, committed, even exemplary in others. Their relationship with God is not erased by a single category of failure.

And maybe even more importantly it means we don’t get to define ourselves that way either.

Because it’s easy to fall into all-or-nothing thinking. If I mess up here, then what I do there doesn’t count. If I’m inconsistent, then I’m a hypocrite. But the daf pushes back against that. It says: people are complicated. Spiritual life is complicated. We don’t wait for perfection to show up, we just show up as we are.

Of course, that doesn’t mean our actions don’t matter. They do. Harm is real and accountability matters. But it does mean that a single failing doesn’t tell the whole story of a person.

Chullin 4

This piece of today’s daf grabbed me right away—not just for the halakhic question, but for the people behind it.

The Gemara is debating whether you can eat matzah made by Samaritans on Passover, and even fulfill your obligation with it.

The Master said: It is permitted to eat the matza of a Samaritan on Passover, and a person fulfills his obligation to eat matza on the first night of Passover with it. The Gemara asks: Isn’t it obvious that if the matza is permitted one fulfills his obligation with it on Passover? The Gemara answers: Lest you say that Samaritans are not expert in the mitzva of guarding the matza for the sake of the mitzva, the tanna teaches us that they are expert. Rabbi Elazar deems it prohibited to eat the matza of Samaritans on Passover, due to the fact that the Samaritans are not experts in the details of mitzvot. He holds that Samaritans are not expert in the mitzva of guarding the matza for the sake of the mitzva. Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel says: With regard to any mitzva that Samaritans embraced and accepted upon themselves, they are more exacting in its observance than are Jews.

One opinion says: of course it’s valid. Another is suspicious: maybe they don’t really understand all the details of the mitzvah. And then comes the ruling from Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel who says that if they keep a law, they do it even better than we do!

That’s… kind of amazing.

So who are the Samaritans? They’re an ancient group who see themselves as descendants of the Israelites, with their own version of the Torah and their own sacred center on Mount Gerizim instead of Jerusalem. In rabbinic literature, they’re often viewed with suspicion—are they fully part of the Jewish people? Can they be trusted in matters of halakhah? The answer is often . . . it depends.

Which is exactly what we see here.

On the one hand, there’s doubt. Maybe they don’t get all the details right. Maybe you shouldn’t rely on them. But on the other hand, there’s this grudging, maybe even admiring, recognition: when they commit to something, they really commit. They’re meticulous. Careful. Maybe even more careful than “us.”

I can’t help but feel like the Gemara is holding two truths at once. There’s a boundary being maintained—they are not us—but there’s also a moment of humility—and sometimes, they do this better than we do.

That’s wha tI love. It’s too easy to dismiss the “other,” to assume they’re getting it wrong. It’s harder to admit that someone outside your group might model something you’re still struggling with, it’s hard to admit when others are even better than you are (especially if you’re the expert).

Maybe the takeaway isn’t about Samaritans at all.

Maybe it’s the quiet challenge embedded in that line: What are the mitzvot we say we care about… but don’t actually live with that same level of intention?

And what would it look like if we did?

Chullin 3

Cheers!

Do you know the history of clinking glasses? I was taught a tale from the Medieval Ages that suggests clinking glasses allowed liquid from one glass to spill into another in order to prevent poisoning attempts.

We do know that Roylaty had “tasters” who would sample the food being served to make sure it was not poisoned.

Today’s daf is similar . . .only it’s about kosher slaughter.

The slaughter performed by a Samaritan is permitted ab initio. In what case is this statement said? It is said in a case where there is a Jew standing over him and supervising to ensure that the slaughter was performed properly. But if the Jew came and found that the Samaritan already slaughtered the animal, the Jew cuts an olive-bulk of meat from the slaughtered animal and gives it to the Samaritan to eat. If the Samaritan ate it, it is permitted for the Jew to eat meat from what the Samaritan slaughtered. But if the Samaritan did not eat the meat, it is prohibited to eat from what the Samaritan slaughtered.

So the rabbis didn’t trust the Samaritan’s enough to not feed Jews unkosher food, but they trusted they wouldn’t eat unkosher food themselves.

The gem? If the servers wouldn’t eat it, maybe you shouldn’t either. (Oh, and maybe we should bring back the true cheers and prevent people sipping roofies into drinks.)

Reminds me of this gem from the Princess Bride:

Chullin 2

New Tractate! And the name says so much. Chullin means, profane – as in everyday, not holy/separate (like Kiddushin). In this tractate we move from services just for the Temple to the everyday. Today, we start with slaughtering animals. We have spent months learning how the Priest does it, today, we learn that for unsanctified animals, anyone can do it! (Okay, anyone competent and considered an adult).

What’s the gem? Well, that even though this tractate deals with the everyday, it’s in the everyday that we have the MOST opportunity to find holiness and encounter God. Let’s hope it happens as this tractate is 141 dapim! (Oy vey)

Menachot 110

What a perfect daf to end the tractate!! For months we have been learning about sacrifice, a way of worship we no longer practice – and neither did the rabbis in the daf! but today’s gems show us how it’s possible that Judaism continues without this method of worship.

1) We can get credit without actually doing it by studying it!

The verse states: “And in every place offerings are presented to My name, and a pure meal offering; for My name is great among the nations, says the Lord of hosts.” Does it enter your mind to say that it is permitted to sacrifice offerings in every place? Rather, Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥmani says that Rabbi Yonatan says: These are Torah scholars, who engage in Torah study in every place. God says: I ascribe them credit as though they burn and present offerings to My name.

So all we need to do is study sacrificial laws and we get credit without actually doing it! (Lots of credit for the past year.)

2) God doesn’t need it!!

God stated in the following verse: “Do I eat the flesh of bulls, or drink the blood of goats?” (Psalms 50:13). I did not say to you: Sacrifice offerings to me, so that you will say: I will do His will, i.e., fulfill His needs, and He will do my will. You are not sacrificing to fulfill My will, i.e., My needs, but you are sacrificing to fulfill your will,i.e., your needs, in order to achieve atonement for your sins by observing My mitzvot, as it is stated: “And when you sacrifice an offering of peace offerings to the Lord, you shall sacrifice it so that you may be accepted” (Leviticus 19:5).

So, sacrifice was for us not God. Makes it a whole easier to stop worshipping that way.

Here we can see how the rabbis were able to help us leave the sacrificial system when the Temple was destroyed. And if you miss it, just crack back open Menachot. Hopefully you’ve gotten something from it.

I know I have.

Menachot 109

Today’s daf sent me down a bit of a rabbit hole—into the story of the Temple of Onias, a temple that stood at the same time as the Temple in Jerusalem (in Landious Egypt).

The Gemara tells the backstory, and it’s wild. This whole temple in Egypt seems to emerge out of a family drama after the death of Shimon HaTzaddik. There’s jealousy between brothers, deception, a public humiliation, and then a chase that ends with one of them—Onias—fleeing to Egypt and building his own altar. And even here, the rabbis can’t agree how to read it. Rabbi Meir sees it as idolatry. Rabbi Yehuda insists it was for the sake of Heaven, even grounding it in a verse from Isaiah.

But which brother tricked the other changes in two tellings of the sotry, but both end with the same moral take away.

Here is the end of version 1: Onias ran away from them and they ran after him. He went to Alexandria in Egypt and built an altar there, and sacrificed offerings upon it for the sake of idol worship. When the Sages heard of the matter they said: If this person, Shimi, who did not enter the position of High Priest, acted with such jealousy, all the more so will one who enters a prestigious position rebel if that position is taken away from him. This is the statement of Rabbi Meir.

The end of version two: Onias went to Alexandria in Egypt and built an altar there, and sacrificed offerings upon it for the sake of Heaven. As it is stated: “In that day shall there be an altar to the Lord in the midst of the land of Egypt, and a pillar at its border, to the Lord” (Isaiah 19:19). According to Rabbi Yehuda, the temple of Onias was dedicated to the worship of God. And when the Sages heard of the matter they said: If this one, Onias, who fled from the position of High Priest and offered it to his brother, still was overcome with such jealousy to the point where he tried to have Shimi killed, all the more so will one who wants to enter a prestigious position be jealous of the one who already has that position.

Both discuss how jealousy can make us act in shameful ways. And hint at the rabbinic teaching that jealousy is a form of idolatry – as in this case, jealousy literally leads to idolatry!

When we put the self in the center, we end up with self worship instead of worshipping God. We may even end up making our own temple. What a powerful story for us, that so many Jews worshipped at a different temple when the Holy Temple still stood.

It does make me wonder: in what ways does jealousy lead us to worship the wrong things today?

Menachot 108

Today’s lesson is to listen . . . even to people you disagree with.

The Gemara answers: Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi disagrees with this entire matter, both in the first and latter clauses of the mishna; but he waited until the Rabbis had completed their statement, and then disagreed with them with regard to both cases.

How rare is it to hear someone out nowadays? To really listen?

The gem is clear: listen before you disagree. Our world would be better if we all could at least try to really hear what others are saying.

Menachot 107

Today’s gem is to learn the local lingo!

The mishna teaches that if one vows to bring a burnt offering and does not specify which animal he will bring, according to the first tanna he must bring a lamb, and according to Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya he may bring a dove or a pigeon. The Gemara explains: And they do not disagree in principle. This Sage rules in accordance with the custom of his locale, and that Sage rules in accordance with the custom of his locale. In the locale of the first tanna, when people would say: Burnt offering, they would be referring to a land animal, whereas in the locale of Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya, when people would say: Burnt offering, they would also be referring to a bird.

There are plenty of words used to refer to the same thing, for example: In the midwest, we call it pop, in Atlanta it’s Coke, and in Miami it’s soda – no matter where you are, it’s a fizzy drink.

On our daf, it’s talking about how the SAME word can refer to something different depending on location. For example: football. In the States, it means American football where people use their hands. In the rest of the world “football” means soccer.

In the US, chips are thinly slices often fried (or baked) potato (or tortilla) slices. In the UK, chips are what we would call french fries.

The lesson? Learn the local jargon, or you might really get yourself in a pickle. 😉

(Let’s get some chips and watch football.)